


Stay Frosty

by darkavenger



Category: Saints Row
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 03:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3676221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkavenger/pseuds/darkavenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt gives fashion critique. Everyone thinks he's in no position to talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay Frosty

“What are you laughing at?” the Boss asks, passing by Matt’s workstation.

“Hm?” Matt hastily minimises the window on his laptop. “Oh. Nothing.”

“Right,” the Boss drawls, leaning on the back of Matt’s chair and leaning over him to look at his screen. “Because that doesn’t sound suspicious at all.”

“Honestly, it’s nothing,” Matt protests.

“Uh huh,” the Boss says pleasantly. “Then if it’s nothing, you won’t mind pulling it back up.”

“I don’t -” Matt begins, then freezes at the cold feel of a gun pressed to the side of his head.

“Don’t make me threaten you,” the Boss says, grinning.

“Some people might think holding a gun to someone’s head is a threat!”

The Boss snorts, rolling his eyes. “Some people need to get out more.”

“Sure,” Matt says, heavy on the sarcasm, “What’s a few murderous threats among friends?”

“Hmmm,” the Boss says neutrally, deliberately not bringing up Matt’s own murder attempts. Clearly the hacker realises the irony of what he’s said, because he coughs and changes the subject. “Anyway, you’re not really going to shoot me.” A beat. “Are you?”

“Probably not,” the Boss says, holstering his gun. “But I will hurt you.”

Matt cringes.

The Boss sighs. Honestly, it’s no fun threatening Matt. The guy is just too pathetic and unlike Kinzie, the Boss isn’t sadistic enough to enjoy it. “C’mon, just show me whatever it was you were looking at,” he says, trying a cajoling tone. “Can’t be that bad. Was it porn?”

“Why would I be laughing at porn?” Matt asks incredulously.

“Shit, I don’t know,” the Boss says, patience wearing thin. “Maybe it was clown porn. Just show me the goddamn window.”

His tone of voice must have shifted into threatening. Matt squeaks, and pulls the window back up.

“...it’s an old picture of Johnny,” the Boss says flatly. He looks at the photo, squints to see if there’s anything hilarious he’s missing; fly unzipped, unfortunate food splashes, pit-stains - but, no. Just Johnny. “Tell me again why this is supposed to be funny?”

Matt spins in his chair and stares imploringly at the Boss. “Please don’t tell Johnny I was laughing at him!”

“Fine,” the Boss says, rolling his eyes, “But only if you explain why.”

Matt’s shoulders slump, but he looks relieved. “It’s just…” he gestures at the screen, helplessly, “iced tips. Really? Really?!”

“Uh, yeah?” the Boss raises an eyebrow, looking at the photo. “They looked killer.”

“Killer?” Matt breaks out into slightly hysterical laughter. “Do you listen to yourself? They do not look ‘killer’,” he says, bracketing the word with his fingers, “that hairstyle is an -”

“Go on.”

The Boss jumps almost as much as Matt, who turns paler than his gothic norm at the sight of Johnny leaning nonchalantly against the doorway.

“What were you saying about my hair?” Johnny uncrosses his arms, the movement somehow threatening.

Matt gulps audibly. “Nothing! Great look,” he grins desperately, giving Johnny two thumbs up.

“Didn’t sound like nothing,” Johnny says, moving closer. “Sounded kinda like maybe you were talkin’ shit.”

“I wasn’t I swear!” Matt babbles, turning to look pleadingly at the Boss and mouth ‘help me’.

The Boss shrugs and takes a step towards Johnny, lifting his hands in a what-can-you-do kind of way. Matt’s look of betrayal is priceless.

“Fine!” Ever melodramatic, Matt flings his hands up. “I admit it! I was making fun of your hair! Can you honestly not see how stupid it looked?”

Johnny pulls a gun.

“Can people stop pulling guns on me?!”

“Who’s pulling guns on Matt?” A voice asks. “Can I join?”

“Sure, Kinzie,” the Boss says, giving the girl a welcoming grin. “Come join the party.”

“Party?” Shaundi pops her head round the doorframe, “what’s the occasion?”

“We’re killing, Matt,” Johnny says calmly, gun still aimed at Matt’s head.

“You want to watch?” Kinzie chirps enthusiastically. The Boss can’t remember when he last saw her this happy.

“Sure,” Shaundi shrugs, stepping in.

“I hate all of you,” Matt says bitterly.

“Relax, Matt,” the Boss says, rolling his eyes. “We’re not actually going to kill you.” He glances at Johnny. “Are we?”

There’s a moment of hesitation. Johnny’s eyes unreadable behind his glasses, then he shrugs and puts the gun away. “Eh. I guess not.”

Matt collapses weakly in his seat, clinging onto the back off it for dear life.

“Aw,” Kinzie complains.

“Why were we killing Matt in the first place?” Shaundi asks, eyebrow raised.

“He made fun of Johnny’s old hair,” the Boss explains.

“The iced tips?” Shaundi says immediately. “Those were killer!”

“See?” the Boss exclaims, turning on Matt, “I told you!”

“Just because she agrees with you, doesn’t mean I’m not right! Kenzie,” Matt turns to her, “I know we’ve had our differences, but even you’ve got to agree that look was godawful.”

Kenzie snorts, crossing her arms. “Miller, if you think I’m going to take your side on anything, you’re wrong.”

“Plus the frosted tips were a strong look, right?” the Boss prompts.

Kenzie hesitates.

“Not you too!” The Boss shouts despairingly. He clutches at his own hair. “God, I’m surrounded by idiots.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” Kenzie says, rolling her eyes. “Look. It’s… not a hairstyle I’m a big fan of, but Gat definitely worked it!”

“Thank you,” the Boss says, emphatically before turning to scowl at Matt. “You owe Johnny an apology.”

“Fine. Is he going to apologise for his crimes against fashion?”

“I changed my mind,” the Boss says, throwing his hands up. “He’s hopeless. Kill him.”

“Finally!” Kenzie cheers. Matt once more collapses into a quivering wreck.

“Ah, screw it,” Johnny says unexpectedly. “Like I’m going to get offended over fashion critique from him.”

Matt splutters, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Johnny gives him a look, and Matt squeaks and shuts up. “Besides,” Johnny says, a slow, shit-eating grin spreading over his face, “If you think the way I used to look is corny, you should’ve seen the Boss.”

“The Boss?” Matt asks doubtfully. “No offence, but I’ve seen him run around in booty shorts and a crop top. I’m not sure any outfit of his would surprise me.”

“Yeah?” Johnny raises an eyebrow, reaching for his pocket and pulling out his phone. “What if I showed you pictures of him wearing a pimp hat.”

“One of the one’s with a feather?” Matt breathes.

Johnny nods in confirmation and Matt lunges for the phone.

“I don’t think so,” the Boss says drily, grabbing Matt by the oversized collar and chucking him back in his chair. “Give me that.” He takes the phone off of Johnny, and winces. “Oh my god. Why do you still have a picture of that?”

Johnny chuckles. “Fond memories. And picture? Try swiping. I got a whole gallery.”

“Ugh,” the Boss groans, prodding ineffectively at the smart phone. “How do I delete these?”

“I could help!” Matt chimes in enthusiastically.

“Or I could,” Kinzie says, rolling her eyes and pushing off the wall. She takes the phone, sees the photo and snickers. “Oh wow.”

“Don’t you delete those,” Johnny says, pointing a finger warningly.

“Oh don’t worry,” Kinzie says, swiping through the gallery avidly, “I’m making backups.”

“I take back that thank you,” the Boss grumbles, giving up on trying to hold onto any shred of dignity.

“I want to see!” Matt snatches at the phone, but Kinzie jerks it back out of reach just in time.

“Let me look,” Shaundi says.

Kenzie passes her the phone, ignoring Matt’s whining.

Shaundi breaks into a smile. “Aw. I remember that hat.”

“Could we all agree to forget it?” the Boss groans.

“Relax, Boss,” Shaundi says wryly, handing the phone back to Kenzie. “At least you only have to deal with photos. I have to live with past me.”

“True,” the Boss allows.

“Aw, Young Shaundi is fun,” Kenzie says.

“Ugh, don’t call her that!” Shaudi protests, wrinkling her nose in disgust, “What does that make me? Old Shaundi?”

“Is it better or worse than calling her Fun Shaundi?” The Boss asks. “Hey!” He steps back, narrowly avoiding Shaundi’s slap.

“Yes!” Matt crows, clutching the phone triumphantly snatched while Kenzie was distracted. A second later and he’s swiping through the photos, laughing uproariously. “Oh my god! Gat was right! You look ridiculous, why on earth did you ever wear this stuff?”

“You had to have the right look to get people to take you seriously,” the Boss growls.

Matt raises an eyebrow. “In what world was this ever the ‘right look’?”

“The early 2000’s were a dark time,” the Boss says. He takes the phone back off Matt, who’s wise enough not to protest, and swipes through a few photos. “Man, I did look like an idiot,” he admits. “Why did you keep these photos again?”

Johnny shrugs, reaching for his phone. His finger brush against the Boss’s, and he grins. “Like I said. Good memories.”


End file.
